What do you do when your wife abducts your children? This was the question facing Douglas Galbraith when, in 2003, he returned home to Scotland from a few days' work in London. The house was silent, empty and locked; his four and six-year-old sons' pyjamas lay on the bedroom floor. And on the doormat, confirmation from the Post Office of a forwarding address - in Japan. He has not seen them since.This book goes to the very heart of relations between parents and children, men and women, and between races and nations - to the heart of what it is to be alive.

What do you do when your wife abducts your children? This was the question facing Douglas Galbraith when, in 2003, he returned home to Scotland from a few days' work in London. The house was silent, empty and locked; his four and six-year-old sons' pyjamas lay on the bedroom floor. And on the doormat, confirmation from the Post Office of a forwarding address - in Japan. He has not seen them since.This book goes to the very heart of relations between parents and children, men and women, and between races and nations - to the heart of what it is to be alive.